Sadie Saget, ‘19

Being sucked up into the atmosphere is what I fear most. On a quiet winter night in my neighborhood, I wander
past the abandoned buildings and onto the bridge overlooking the creek. When I look up at the night sky, I swear
it’s looking back. The short buildings and lack of streetlights make it easy to imagine the intense darkness going
on forever. The clouds hover around, close to the ground, and they don’t stand a chance of making a statement
against the midnight monster. They get sucked up by the horizon, and if I don’t hurry home, I will surely be next.
The eerie wind blows past my ears as a warning to get indoors, and although it’s the right idea to keep my head
down and take large strides to get there faster, the sky drags my face upward in confrontation. Its vastness makes
me sway. If I lose touch with reality for just a few seconds, it will take hold of me and all that I am and I will never get home, so I begin to run. I don’t stop until there is a roof over my head and the dark sky is nowhere in sight.